:: poor dog

Yesterday morning while out walking Bertie ate a lot of grass and honked it up. Uh oh. I checked him over and noticed that the glands on one side of his neck were swollen. Uh oh. I phoned the vet and whizzed over to Linlithgow for a consultation. He's not keen on the Linlithgow surgery because one time I left him there and the evil vets knocked him out and he had to wear a boot for weeks afterwards. However he was pleased to discover that the other pet in the waiting room was a rabbit in a cardboard box. Also the next pet in was another greyhound, hurrah. Lucky old rabbit owners.

So the vet had a look and couldn't see anything down his throat. His other glands are ok and his temperature's normal. She gave him two shots, antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory. The vet said the antibiotic shot "might sting". Well, apparently it hurt. It really really really really hurt. He squealed and cried and cried and cried. He cried so much and so loudly that the receptionist came in to see what was going on. He cried so much that the other greyhound howled along. The vet gave him a biscuit, and he managed to eat it without stopping crying.

I've got to take him back in tomorrow morning, and if he's not better they'll knock him out and have a good look down his throat. I fear it might be a hedgehog quill stuck down his throat. He isn't any better today; in fact his neck is more swollen than yesterday. He's not eating as much of his dry dog food as normal, but he is managing to choke down a huge quantity of treats. He's in good spirits, chasing rabbits and bouncing around, and his nose is still cold and wet so I'm not too worried. But I feel a massive vet's bill coming on.

I've nearly finished stripping the wallpaper off my bedroom -- ghastly business -- and I should finish tonight. Tomorrow I've got the vet, then I'm getting my hair done and going to the Christian Aid booksale in George St, then in the evening I'm meeting Fiona for a drink. But that could change depending on whether I have to collect a zonked-out dog from Linlithgow -- they don't have an operating room at the local branch. The bedroom's going to be blue. Eventually.

Last night I went to a great concert, Ralph Vaughan Williams' Sea Sympony, plus Elgar's Sea Pictures and a couple of other things. A woman at work is in the chorus and she flogged us tickets: John, his wife and I went. We'd also been asked to go by Martin, who knows someone else in the chorus, and he was there with his son. We all met up in a pub & had something to eat before the concert, then went back to the pub afterwards. We had to move pubs because it turned out that Martin's son is barred from the first one! He's not a ruffian, just a free spirit.